


Wrapped Around My Finger, You Unravel

by demonkatgurl17



Series: Jungle Love [2]
Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Constipation, Island fun times, Jealous Oliver, M/M, Porn with Feelings, Power Imbalance, Rough Sex, kinda sequel?, potential new relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-15
Updated: 2018-05-15
Packaged: 2019-05-07 07:26:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14666228
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/demonkatgurl17/pseuds/demonkatgurl17
Summary: Semi-sequel to Possession. Oliver's lust and feelings have him out of sorts. Good thing Slade is around to sort him out, even if a little pain is involved.





	Wrapped Around My Finger, You Unravel

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Earning It](https://archiveofourown.org/works/6687148) by [Skalidra](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skalidra/pseuds/Skalidra). 



> As stated in the tags, this is a sort of sequel to my fic Possession, which was inspired by Skalidra's fic Earning It (which is hella awesome, you should totally read it, it's the bee's knees). I kinda hate myself for the name I created this "series" with. Just awful.
> 
> Anyway, here's the plot bunny I've worked on infrequently for the past 2-3 months, hope you like.

“What’s gotten into you, kid?” Slade growled.

“Me? What’s _your_ deal?” Oliver shot back angrily. He’d spent weeks being ignored (well, as much as he could be, stuck in the middle of nowhere with two other people) and untouched. Ever since Shado joined them, it was like a dry spell had hit in Oliver’s sex life. Granted, sex between him and Slade had started off as a result of a fucked-up barter system back when they first met. When Oliver had learned to defend himself and hunt fairly well, that hadn’t put an end to Slade’s overtures.

The arrival of Shado, though, had.

And it stung Oliver more than a little bit.

“We haven’t-” Oliver cut off before his rant could gain full force. Slade had gone off on him before about attachments. If the older man knew that Oliver was getting soft over him. Oliver could only imagine the telling off he’d get. “Forget it,” he spat, turning to head back to the plane.

Or wander around. He wasn’t sure. He just didn’t want to be here with Slade having a conversation that wouldn’t do him any favors.

He didn’t get more than a few steps away before Slade spun him around, though.

“Haven’t _what_?”

“Just- never mind, okay?” Oliver grit out, yanking himself free and striding away. Now he was pissed with _himself_. Maybe Slade had gotten tired of him. The looks the older man gave Shado certainly hadn’t gone unnoticed, at least by him.

That was probably what hurt Oliver the most, that he was just a replaceable fuckhole. The irony: Oliver Queen - a playboy, used to getting who he wanted and discarding them just as easy as he’d claimed them - had it bad for a man who treated him like one of Oliver’s own conquests.

All of a sudden, Oliver tripped forward, hitting the ground hard. Turning himself over, he was unsurprised to find Slade glaring down at him, arms crossed over his chest. Well, he was _angry_ and unsurprised. “What the _hell_ \- ”

“Don’t you start avoiding me now, kid. You’ve been a pissy little bitch for a while now, so what’s _your_ deal?”

Oliver’s attempt to get up was thwarted by Slade and, when it was clear he wasn’t going anywhere without outsmarting or talking to the Aussie, Oliver felt the raging ball of pain inside him flare up.

So he vented.

“If you didn’t want me anymore, you could have just said something,” he hissed, glaring at Slade’s knees because he couldn’t make himself meet the man’s eyes. “I’m an adult. I can take it when someone tells me off.”

“ _Clearly_ you can’t.” He knocked Oliver back on his ass when the blond tried to stand again. Eyes narrow, Slade fell silent for a moment as he put two and two together. “You think that I’m not interested in you because we haven’t fucked-”

“-Since Shado came here,” Oliver cut in. “You haven’t touched me or _anything_ since she’s been here and _all_ you do is stare at her like she’s a piece of meat-”

“I stare because she’s a beautiful woman and I haven’t been with a woman since well before I crashed on this island-”

“So I guess I don’t count,” Oliver muttered bitterly under his breath.

Slade heard him anyway. “We had an arrangement, kid. Quid pro quo-”

“How come _Shado_ gets to stay without having an ‘ _arrangement’?”_ Oliver interrupted petulantly.

“What makes you think we don’t?”

Oliver finally looked up at Slade, shock and betrayal stilling his tongue. _Thinking_ that Slade was after Shado and _knowing_ he already had her were two different things. His heart beat painfully hard in his chest as his mind went blank, now unsure where he stood with the older man.

Tears threatened to spill from his eyes so he ripped his gaze away to the safety of the surrounding tree line, unable to keep meeting Slade’s challenging stare when Oliver was awash with defeat.

“You’re jealous.”

Oliver didn’t bother responding. Wouldn’t have done any good when it was obvious Slade was right.

Slade sighed. “Shado and I don’t have an arrangement.”

“But you want one.”

“Well…I certainly wouldn’t _mind_ …”

Oliver’s stomach turned and he clenched his jaw against it, worried he’d lose what precious little he’d eaten that day.

“Look, kid, we’ve talked about this. Attachments on this island will only get someone hurt-”

Oliver rolled to his feet. This time Slade let him up. “Forget it,” he said tersely over his shoulder as he strode away, eager to be anywhere Slade wasn’t.

Slade didn’t follow.

 

 

 

 

 

Between the traps and the game they managed to shoot down, the three of them were better fed than ever. The only need of Oliver’s that wasn’t being met was his libido and, though Slade’s confession of wanting Shado had burned him, Oliver still found himself frustrated and wanting the Aussie’s touch, missing the control and humiliation that sent his blood on fire, searing him from the inside out.

The forced abstinence made Oliver edgy and his temper short, so it was ideal for everyone that he had taken to seclusion in the jungle. And it made masturbation far less awkward when he was free from prying eyes and ears - not that Slade tried to join when Oliver touched himself anymore.

Forcing his jealous anger aside, Oliver concentrated on the feel of his own hand as it dragged up and down his length, barely slick enough from the precome beading from the tip, the rough drag of skin almost a tease. He’d tried holding out because touching himself only made things worse, made him want more than he could have. He bit his lip in frustration. The pain edged his pleasure along, but not nearly enough.

Just like his hand - it wasn’t enough.

He tossed his head back against the tree he was leaning on, far enough away from the plane to have some privacy. His dick hung red and angry out of his fly. Oliver grit his teeth against the itch he couldn’t seem to scratch.

Pathetic.

He’d been pulling on himself for a while, too much longer and Oliver would be sore for days, but the ache in his sack was driving him crazy. If he didn’t come, he’d be stuck in a bad mood for hours and he was due to check back in at the plane before long. Slade had already snapped at him this morning, he didn’t need more of that to deal with, all because he couldn’t manage to _get himself off_.

Growling under his breath, he let go of his uncooperative dick to move to a spot with more brush cover, dropping to his knees and hastily rummaging in his bag for the container of slick that Slade used with him. He’d taken it this morning on impulse and, right now, he was happy he’d snagged it.

Shimmying his pants down past his knees while staying ducked down behind the brush around him was awkward, but that didn’t stop him. He dropped onto a forearm to leave his hips raised high in the air while he reached back behind himself with slick fingers. Driving two fingers into his tight, unprepared hole jolted a groan from his lips that he barely kept stifled. Desperation zinging through him. _God_ he needed this. It was awful how much he needed this and part of him hated Slade for turning him into this- this _slut_ , eager for a thick cock and a dominating hand. But Slade didn’t seem to want him and there was no one else to turn to. No one who wouldn’t cause him harm, at least...

Oliver panted as he worked himself open, twisting and spreading, trying to mimic how the older man would open him up, quick, with just enough irreverence to make Oliver feel like a tool for Slade’s pleasure. Precome dribbled slowly from his cock to the ground, pooling beneath him as he strained his arm back a little further, getting another finger in alongside the other two, shuddering at the stretch around his own knuckles. He was keyed-up. He knew that, once he touched his cock, it would be all over, but instead he drew out his pleasure, settling for the feel of something inside him, even though his fingers were a poor substitute for what he really wanted.

There was a danger to doing this away from the safety of the plane, that he might be found, but Oliver had ignored it, seeking out the high of an orgasm. When he heard rustling from the brush behind him, Oliver knew that he had gambled and lost.

“Well this is unexpected.”

Oliver froze at the sound of Slade’s voice, the wry humor in it escaping him as he choked on his own breath. The realization of just how _fucked_ he was hit him, shutting down his ability to do more than tremble where was awkwardly hunched over on the ground.

More rustling and the shuffle of Slade’s footsteps drawing near, but Oliver couldn’t find the will to move until he felt pressure on his legs - Slade kneeling down behind him, pinning him - felt hands on his hips. Then Oliver tried to surge forward but found himself pulled back and held tightly in place. A shiver ran through him when his fingers slipped free, but fear and mounting anger overrode the lingering pleasure.

“What the _fuck_ , Slade?” he growled, embarrassed that he’d been caught in such a compromising position and _pissed_ at Slade for keeping him in it.

He felt himself flush even darker when Slade’s hands spread his cheeks apart too look at his loosened entrance.

“I came out to see if you were done being sore with me, but from the looks of it, you’re sore for other reasons,” Slade chuckled at him.

The dig set off Oliver’s temper.

He shoved away from the ground, throwing his hips back into Slade’s as he reared up onto his knees. The sudden move jarred Slade’s grip on his hips, but the Aussie was unprepared for the elbow Oliver blindly cocked back, getting caught in the face by it and knocked to his side.

Oliver had his pants up by the time Slade got to his feet, but Oliver didn’t wait for him. Slinging his carry pack over his shoulder, Oliver surged out of the brush, uncaring of the traces he was leaving behind or that Slade was hot on his heels in pursuit. He’d been humiliated, used, and treated like a cheap cast-off all because he had the misfortune of washing up on this shithole of an island, but now this?

There were only so many knocks his pride could take.

“What the _hell_ , kid?” Slade asked as he dragged Oliver around to face him, easily blocking the swing Oliver made at him, using the momentum to trip Oliver and send him shoulder-first into a thick tree. “ _Talk_ to me. Avoiding or attacking me isn’t gonna get you anything but bruises and it _sure_ isn’t doesn’t help our little arrangemen-”

“What does that even _matter?_ ” Oliver cut him off. “You don’t want me anymo-”

“I never _once_ said that!” Slade barked over him.

“You didn’t have to! The way you stare at Shado, practically _drooling_ over her, I’m not stupid-”

“Well then, you’re doing a very good impression of it-”

“I have _eyes_ -”

“Then you should know she’s not the only one I’ve been lookin’ at.”

Oliver huffed at him, falling into a tense silence with a mulish expression on his face.

Slade glared at him right back. “Just so we’re clear, I’m _allowed_ to be attracted to other people, kid. This whole stuck-on-an-island thing only shrinks the pool I fish in; it doesn’t drain it down to just _you_.”

Jaw clenched, Oliver looked away into the trees. Knowing Slade had a point made part of him squirm with how childish he was being, but he was pissed, no way in hell was he going to inflate the man’s ego by telling him he was right.

“All the months you’ve been stuck here,” Slade growled, “all the training I’ve given you, and you’re still just a stuck up little rich boy, used to getting what and who he wants and throws a fucking _tantrum_ when he doesn’t get it.”

Tears threatened in Oliver’s eyes and a muscle ticked in his jaw at the hot flood of anger and embarrassment he felt at Slade’s words. He _hated_ how much of it was true, but jealousy worked quickly to salve that pain. _He_ was the one who had fought by Slade’s side, who had helped to heal Slade, who had helped rescue Shado in the first place. Rocky, unconventional, and downright unhealthy as their relationship was, Oliver had thought… Well, in truth, he had never really thought about it. This twisted thing between them had sprung from an impossible ultimatum. Never in Oliver’s life did he think it would become something that he would want, would _crave_ , even look forward to.

What did that say about Oliver? About what kind of person he was?

Maybe he had always been like this - a pathetic deviant who got off on being dominated and used by people who didn’t care about him. It wasn’t such a farfetched idea. Most of the women he’d slept with had probably been drawn in by his wealth.

Either way, it didn’t matter. It was clear that Oliver had gotten attached and Slade, well, hadn’t.

And that was no one’s fault but Oliver’s.

His stomach sank as defeat hit him hard. “It’s whatever, okay? Fuck who you want.” He didn’t bother giving Slade any further attention, just pushed off the tree and set off in the direction of the plane. Or at least he hoped it was. He still got turned around in all of this damn _green_.

Turning his back on Slade was stupid, in hindsight, given how stealthy the man could be.

A yank at his foot sent him stumbling forward and he was flush up against another rough tree trunk with an arm twisted up behind his back before he could get his bearings again.

“I’ve been _trying_ to fuck who I want,” Slade whispered into his ear, pressing his front flush against Oliver’s body, trapping him between a wall of wood and a wall of muscle, “but every time I try, he works himself into a mood before I can give him the fucking he’s practically _begging_ for.”

A rough bite at the nape of Oliver’s neck made the angry protest die on his lips. Despite the resentment curling in his belly at the older man, lust rose to join it, muddying everything in Oliver’s head as something within Oliver _purred_ in satisfaction at having Slade so close again, his mouth and teeth on Oliver’s skin.

Oliver’s ragged nails dug into bark. “I haven’t…”

“Like hell you haven’t,” Slade growled once he’d pulled away from Oliver’s neck. “Then again…whining like a child, sulking and pouting…maybe what you really need is a _spanking_.”

Slade yanked up slightly on his arm, making him groan faintly in protest as pain flared up at the twist. Fingertips dragged slowly down Oliver’s side to his hip, pressing so hard he was sure there would be bruises, but the pain lit up his senses, made his head spin and fall deeper down into that place that Slade sometimes sent him to, where everything was fuzzy and following Slade’s will just made _sense_. Obedience settled around Oliver like a warm blanket, comforting him, encouraging him to follow the hand angling his hips back towards Slade, letting his belly curve down as his back bent in a deep arch.

It wasn’t until he heard a dull smack and felt a flare of pain on his asscheek that Oliver realized what Slade was doing.

He sucked in a startled breath, releasing it all at once when the next strike came, this time on the other cheek. There was no rhythm, no pattern to where and when Slade’s hand would fall, no way to anticipate when the broad hand would hit, hard and unyielding, driving grunts and groans from his throat and the breath from his lungs.

“Is _this_ what you need?” _Smack!_ “Someone to keep your bratty arse in line?” A firm _smack_ to the back of Oliver’s thigh forced a sharper yelp out of him. “I have other things I could be doing. I think the _least_ I deserve is a _thank you_.”

There was a long pause where Slade went quiet, no blows coming down. Dazed as he was, Oliver didn’t realize that Slade was waiting on a response from him until he got a mean _pinch_ to the skin of his ribs, making him yelp again and try to shy away from the deliberately-inflicted pain.

“Well?” Slade testily prompted.

“I- What?” Another _pinch_ to the same spot. “ _OW_ you _dick_ , what the _hell?_ ” The fog in his mind was clearing with his rising temper. Soon his anger would probably explode out of him and piss Slade off even more - though Oliver still didn’t get why the older man was being such a jerk right now.

“Thank me.”

“…are you fucking _serious_ , Slade?”

Slade pinched him again, making Oliver swear at him. “ _Thank_ me,” he said, emphasizing his words slow enough that Oliver couldn’t miss the lack of humor in them.

Oliver’s temper flared. His arm was still caught in a twist behind his back, so he tried to push away and straighten up from his deep bend against the tree, but Slade’s hand shot out to grip him by the nape, keeping him pinned with his face against the tree. “Let me up,” Oliver growled when the grip proved too strong to escape.

“No. _Thank me_ ,” Slade intoned again, his voice a dark growl that sent shivers down Oliver’s spine despite the anger and humiliation running through him. He debated for a moment, his pride balking at the idea of _thanking_ the man for doing…whatever this was, because Oliver wasn’t sure what the hell was going on, but he could tell Slade was in a mood, unlikely to let him get his way. There would be no winning for him today, he realized, so he grit out a “ _thank you_ ” from between tightly clenched teeth, anger twisting in his veins like poison.

“That didn’t sound very sincere,” Slade whispered. He released his grip on Oliver’s nape to run his nails across the sore skin of Oliver’s ribs, chuckling low under his breath when Oliver whimpered and flinched.

“Th- thank you,” Oliver stuttered out. He was anxious to avoid another mean pinch so he put as much sincerity into the words as he could. The firm grip on his arm finally loosened, allowing Oliver to untwist it back into a normal position. He hissed softly at the pain tingling through his arm. Oliver flexed his nearly-numb fingers against the rough bark to encourage blood flow.

Calloused fingers massaged Oliver’s abused shoulder then squeezed his nape. “ _Good boy_ ,” Slade whispered, his breath warm as it fluttered over the side of Oliver’s face and Oliver sagged against the tree with a helpless whimper, that one word stoking up a surge of humiliation, turning his anger into that strange molten feeling - like shame and lust intertwined, the two becoming indistinguishable - and that strange feeling left Oliver kitten-weak and helpless against Slade’s will. Fingers stroked down his sore ribs to grip his bruising hip, but this time he didn’t shy away, his body accepting Slade’s touch whether it gave him pain or pleasure, bending to the older man’s will as it unconsciously recognized his dominance and control.

The massaging fingers on his neck slid up into his hair, nails scraped across his scalp, dragging a moan out of him. He moaned louder when Slade gripped a handful of his shaggy hair to tilt his head back enough to allow Slade to steal a kiss. Oliver’s back ached from the strain of the deep bend. He groaned into the kiss, an answering one rumbled back into his own mouth from Slade.

Slade ground against Oliver’s ass, his hard-on digging into Oliver’s cleft even through their pants, making Oliver’s breath hitch. “Do you feel that?” He gave a gentle thrust of his hips. There was no mistaking his arousal. “See how much I’ve missed you?”

Aroused as he was, Oliver’s mind was still clear enough that he could remember just why there had been a gap in their activities. “Can’t have missed me that much. It’s not like I went anywhere,” he tried to snipe back, but his breathy pants only made him sound whiny.

Slade yanked at Oliver’s hair, making him wince at the rough treatment. “What would you have me do? Take you there in the plane for Shado to see? I’m not so far removed from civilization that I can’t act with a _modicum_ of decency,” he snarled, releasing his grip on Oliver’s hair with such force that Oliver’s head nearly banged up against the tree.

Anger flared within Oliver.                                      

“And where was that _decency_ ,” he spat over his shoulder, “when _we_ first met?”

“Never said I was perfect,” Slade purred darkly into his ear. “And besides, you’ve never seemed to hate it, not when I know _exactly,_ ” Slade thrust his hips, “how much you’ve enjoyed my touch.” The hard line of Slade’s cock pressed against his ass so deliciously hot and insistent it was _maddening_.

 _God_ he wanted it. Yeah, he was pissed at Slade, ashamed of how his body responded to such abusive treatment, but none of that dampened the arousal flooding through him at having Slade so close, pressed against him so _intimately_. So he latched onto his anger, his shame, using the pain to ground him as his arousal threatened to wash him away. “You’ll- you’ll just go back to staring at Shado. Why even bother?” Oliver panted.

They couldn’t keep doing this, it was driving him insane.

“Of course I will. But I’m not the only one.”

Oliver’s heart skipped in fear. He hadn’t thought Slade had noticed…

“Yeah, I’ve seen how you look at her. Every time she goes off on her own, you don’t think I see that look you get, sorrier than a kicked puppy under that mop.” Rough fingers scratched over his shaggy blond hair, too quick for Oliver’s liking.” My eyes aren’t the only ones that watch her,” Slade’s voice dipped sinfully low as he all but plastered himself across Oliver’s back as best he could with the deep bend he kept Oliver in, his arm braced over Oliver’s head on the tree to get closer. “I’m not the only one who admires that lean slip of a body, that pretty face, those lush lips…”

Oliver swallowed hard in embarrassed arousal because it was true, he _had_ become interested in Shado, though fear had kept him from saying anything, not really wanting to hurt Slade or face the rejection he was sure to get from Shado.  It hadn’t been all bad, he had still had Slade, but then he’d noticed Slade watching her too and his blood had boiled with helpless rage, jealousy overshadowing own desire for her as he’d quietly seethed.

“You think about her, don’t you?” Slade whispered, “Late at night, when you’re touching yourself? You miss it? The tight warmth of a wet cunt wrapped around your cock?” Oliver’s cock twitched, his heart beat even harder in his chest. “Soft curves, perky tits swelling up inside your mouth as you lick and suck and pull every playboy trick you have to make her _soaking wet_ …”

A ragged moan burst from Oliver’s lips. His eyes slipped shut.

The fantasy could have been own of his own. It was hard, not letting it wrap around him and drag him under. Oliver gave a token resistance, trying to ignore the sultry tone of Slade’s voice before realizing he didn’t really want to fight it, he never had - one of the reasons he had such a track record with women in the first place - so he let the scene play out in his mind. The fantasy was so real it was almost like it was happening, even though it was rough bark under his hands instead of the soft flesh of a woman, even though Slade’s hard body pressed tight against him instead of Shado’s curvier one. Such delicious contrast, even if it was all in his head.

His cock was so hard it hurt.

He wanted the filth falling from Slade’s lips. He wanted Shado, soft and sensual and wrapped so perfectly around his cock. He wanted Slade’s cock, thick and hard, buried so deep inside he could _taste_ him. He wanted all of that at once and more.

Oliver _wanted_ and it all threatened to tear him to pieces.

“ _Please_ … Slade, Slade _please_.” God, he didn’t even know what he was asking for, all he knew was this feeling, this _want_ was suffocating and he badly needed release, uncaring at this point who helped him achieve it.

“You can see it, can’t you? Practically _taste_ it,” Slade hissed in his ear as he reached his hand around Oliver’s hip to cup aching flesh, chuckling darkly under his breath at the younger man’s whine as Oliver bucked his hips into the punishing grip. “You have the _gall_ to torture me for what I want and here you are, one touch away from creaming your shorts at the thought of her.”

Slade pulled away.

 _Entirely_ away.

The hand on Oliver’s cock withdrew, the warm line pressing him into the tree vanished, and Oliver shivered as he bit back a whimper at the loss. When he dared to turn around, he found Slade leaning against a thick trunk several feet away, hands buried into his pockets as he watched Oliver impassively. If it weren’t for the telltale bulge at his crotch, Oliver would swear the older man looked _bored_.

Oliver was being punished.

Anger still bubbled hot beneath Oliver’s skin at the blatant teasing, but shame quickly overrode it, now that his own dual desires were out in the open. “Okay…so…maybe it wasn’t very _fair_ to, y’know…get mad at you…” he tersely admitted, the words so softly spoken he wasn’t sure that Slade heard him over the chatter of bugs and birds in the forest, but the older man didn’t ask him to repeat it, didn’t do much beyond raising a skeptical eyebrow at him.

“I’m sorry,” he continued, only to get a loud sniff directed at him as Slade turned his head away to stare around into the surrounding brush, giving ‘I don’t give a fuck’ airs as he all but ignored Oliver’s apology. What the fuck did he have to do? Oliver slumped back, uncaring of the rough bark digging into his shoulder blades. “C’mon, I’m sorry, alright? What do you want me to say?”

“It’s not so much _words_ that I want,” Slade drawled, a slyness playing about his lips and eyes. “It’s _action_.”

An angry retort died before it left Oliver’s mouth as Slade gave a small undulation of his hips, subtly drawing Oliver’s attention to his still hard cock. Oliver swallowed hard in want as he stared at it, now having a good idea of what Slade wanted. He wanted it too. So it was no skin off his back, really, when he took the handful of steps forward to kiss the triumphant smirk right off Slade’s face, the older man grunting as bark dug into his back when Oliver pressed him further into the tree.

Dropping to his knees, Oliver ignored the dark chuckle Slade gave, intent on unfastening combat gear, belt, then _finally_ Slade’s trousers. Carefully, he withdrew Slade’s cock, eagerly taking it into his mouth as far as he could manage and started bobbing up and down the hardening length.

When he had first ‘paid’ Slade for food and protection, he assumed his reaction was a fluke, that his body was just reacting to new stimuli but, again and again, when Slade dominated him- _humiliated,_ even-Oliver crumbled beneath Slade, getting off on Slade’s use and abuse, at first taking it because he had to and then, later, after he began learning to take care of himself, he took it because he _wanted_ to. Oliver never thought he would grow to crave submitting to Slade, to _need_ it, so when Slade singlehandedly put a stop to everything with not one quick fuck or grope for _weeks_ , it was like a shock to Oliver’s system, and now that he was finally getting what he needed,  Oliver felt his self-control _snap_.

Pulling off of Slade with an obscenely wet ‘ _pop_ ’, Oliver yanked Slade’s pants and underwear down enough so he could get at the older man’s sack, enthusiastically lapping at it with his tongue and (at Slade’s rough groan) suckling the soft globes.

Teasing fingers carded through his hair. “You miss my cock that much?”

Oliver’s cheeks burned with humiliation. “…yes…”  

The fingers tightened, drawing his head up and back, giving him no hope of hiding from the man. “What was that?”

He did his best to maintain eye contact with Slade. “Y-yes,” Oliver choked out, “I missed your cock.” He was fairly sure a fire could be started from the heat coming off his face.

“ _Good_ ,” Slade growled at him, then used his grip on Oliver’s hair to drag his face forward so Slade could thrust against his face, leaving spit trails across it, evading Oliver’s attempts to draw it back into his mouth. “No,” he said, moving his cock away from Oliver’s extended tongue. “Ask me like the good boy you are.”

Shame burned through Oliver at that, his own cock throbbing despite the humiliating order. “Please give me your cock.”

“That’s better. So obedient. But where would you like me to put it?” The blunt tip slid over Oliver’ lips before it surged _deep_ into his open mouth, hitting the back of his throat. Slade held it there, waiting just until Oliver began to choke in discomfort before abruptly pulling out again, smearing the newly slick length across Oliver’s face as he gasped and coughed, still trying to weakly mouth at it when it came near his lips. “In your mouth? Or maybe…somewhere else?” He laughed at the moan Oliver gave at that. “It’s been a few weeks, hasn’t it? God only knows how tight your little hole has gotten since then. Can’t have that, now, can we?”

Oliver stared up at him, want hitting him hard at the thought of Slade fucking him. God, it had been too long… “ _Please,_ ” he begged.

Thankfully, Slade seemed to be eager for it too, but instead of moving away, he dragged Oliver’s face back onto his cock, urging him to suck as he thrust faster than Oliver could really handle, in and out of his mouth, nudging just hard enough at the back of Oliver’s throat to partially set off his gag reflex. By the time he pulled out again, Oliver was dizzy and gasping for breath, barely taking notice of how wet Slade’s cock had become, shiny with ropes of spit.

“Good boy…”

Slade moved sideways out from between Oliver and the tree, partially hobbled by his clothes wrapped about his knees. He didn’t move to take any of his layers off, but he did work on Oliver’s, quickly removing his shirt to use it as a makeshift blanket under his ass as Slade moved to lay flat on the ground, wet cock proudly standing tall. “Take off the rest and come here.”

Oliver quickly forgot the minor offense his shirt was being used for in his haste to obey the command, cursing his clumsy fingers when they fumbled at his pants and shoe strings, overeager to be rid of everything and be naked. Somehow he managed to take off his clothes without tripping over himself, but when he was bare to the world, he found himself hesitating, unsure of what Slade wanted. His confusion didn’t abate much, even when Slade patted his own hips with a firm command of “straddle me”.

Who was Oliver to refuse?

Gingerly, he knelt down over Slade’s hips - well, technically his midriff, as Slade redirected his descent, trapping Oliver between the rise of his cock and his beautifully muscled chest. Fuck Disneyland, because as far as Oliver was concerned- hellish island, aside - this was the happiest place on Earth.

“Ride me.”

Oliver’s errant thoughts vanished as he blinked down at the older man, stunned as much by the command as he was by Slade placing him in a position of power.

“Get. On. My. Cock,” Slade slowly bit out, “Or. You. Don’t. Come.”

The look on his face made Oliver sure he wouldn’t get a third prompt.

Oliver raised himself up onto his knees and felt behind him for Slade’s cock, fumbling around a bit like an overeager teenager before he had the fat tip pressed against his hole. He took in a shaky, nervous breath then slowly, painstakingly slid little by little down to the thick root and settled his weight fully onto Slade’s hips. He rocked in place, groaning at the exquisite feel of being so full, a feeling he’d started to go crazy without during the spontaneous period of celibacy.

Thankfully, Oliver was still loose and slick enough inside from his interrupted play, but the added spit was appreciated.

Looking down through his lashes at Slade, he found the man staring up at him in open hunger, his dark eyes ablaze with the force of his want. He gripped Oliver’s hips tight enough to form bruises. “ _Ride_ me.”

Oliver leaned forward to place his unsure hands on Slade’s chest. They’d never done _this_ before. Slade had always been content to take control (and Oliver had been content to let him). But he needed Slade to fuck him and if this was the only way the older man was going to give it to him, then Oliver would certainly take what he could get.

Inch by inch, Oliver slid back up to the very tip. And then he paused, the reality of Slade’s command hitting him and he began to panic. But Slade didn’t give him long to think himself into a frenzy, pulling Oliver by his hips back down onto his cock, every inch buried back inside Oliver in the blink of an eye, and Oliver cried out in pain and pleasure at being stuffed too full of cock too fast.

A loud, sharp _smack_ to his ass helped jar Oliver’s attention back to Slade.

“ **Ride** me!”  Slade growled.

And just like that, Oliver felt himself settling into the strange grey headspace that the older man’s dominance usually put him into and he found it suddenly easier to follow through, the nervous shaking in his limbs was now from pleasure rather than fear as each lift-drop-hip roll-lift-repeat came easier and faster.

Oliver’s hips tilted just right and he panted and whined as his prostate was brushed over and over.

Slade reached up to grab Oliver by his overgrown, matted locks, dragging the younger man’s head back and impaling him further down on his cock and a helpless cry left Oliver’s lips. “You can’t stay quiet, can you?”

Held fast at each end, Oliver swallowed roughly, struggling to be coherent enough to answer. “T- _trying_.” Oliver rolled his hips in a tight circle and he couldn’t stop the moan from spilling past his lips.

“If _this_ is you trying, then I guess you’ll need my help if you don’t want to get us both _killed_ ,” Slade said before dragging Oliver up and off his cock, making the younger man cry out at the sudden, empty feeling.

His mind still fuzzy and complacent, Oliver let Slade treat him like a ragdoll, his body getting pushed and pulled around until he was on all fours with Slade behind him (a much more familiar position). Slade roughly shoved back in to the hilt, then sank back onto his own heels, dragging Oliver back with him so that Oliver’s back was to his chest, his thighs curved around the outside of Slade’s and splayed open, forcing Oliver to take in even more of the man’s cock. Slade wound his arms around Oliver’s chest, resting one hand over the muscles of Oliver’s abdomen while the other clamped down over Oliver’s mouth. “Now _ride_ ,” he said. His lips brushed teasingly over Oliver’s ear before sucking on his lobe.

Oliver’s moan was muffled under the man’s heavy palm, but he couldn’t have held it in even if he wanted to, being so damn _full_ of cock, his rim stretched tight around the thick base. Tears sprang into his eyes. It hurt but it didn’t, the strange sense of fullness he’d lacked for several weeks was more overwhelming than anything and Oliver did his best to drag as much air in through his nose to calm himself through it, trying to deal with it.

A buck of Slade’s hips forced his hole even wider and he whimpered into Slade’s hand, tears streaming down his face as he pawed beseechingly at Slade’s arms to no avail.

“Ride or I pull out and leave you with your hand for another week,” Slade growled threateningly into his ear.

Believing him, panic flooded through Oliver. He couldn’t take another week like the last three he’d suffered through; it wasn’t the same, wasn’t _enough_. So, with a graceless shuffle of his legs to gain leverage, Oliver arched his back and tilted his hips. The cage of Slade’s arms gave him precious little space to work with, but he still managed to slide up Slade’s cock a few inches before he dropped down - fell, really - impaling himself, his breath exploding from him with a muffled, ragged cry as the thick cock was forced deep inside again.

“Again.”

Tears came faster as Oliver obeyed, soon falling into a rhythm he found himself getting lost in.

The repeating movement of arch-lift-roll-fall- _impale_ was still awkward, but gradually became easier, the pressure of having Slade in him retreated to something manageable, something _addicting_ , and all Oliver could do was dig his dirty nails into Slade’s arms as he struggled to fuck himself on Slade’s thick cock, his broken cries mostly held behind the older man’s palm.

His thighs _ached_ from exertion, unused to doing more in their fucks than bending over and _taking it_. His lungs strained to take in air through his nose. Bugs flittered around them. Drawn in by the musk and sweat on his exposed body, they landed on him, crawled on him, _bit him_ , but Oliver was only vaguely aware of his own discomfort. His entire world had narrowed down to the feel of Slade’s cock sliding out, _thrusting_ back in, out and in again, filling him up, hitting that _spot_ , driving him deep into his head as he surrendered his body to Slade’s will.

“ _Fuck_ , kid,” Slade grit out around a moan, finally rolling his own hips up as Oliver was dropping down, startling a louder groan into his hand. “Fucking _take_ my cock.” The hand on his belly slid down to grip Oliver’s hip, directing him to move faster up and down, Oliver helpless to do anything but obey as Slade’s own groans grew louder in his ear.

Suddenly, Oliver was pitching forward, barely having the time or attention to catch himself and his shoulders protested the jarring landing. The pain cleared his mind enough for him to register just how _empty_ he was right before rough hands were on him, spreading his legs, tilting his hips, spreading his cheeks wide-

And then conscious thought fled his mind, Slade’s cock driving it away as he frantically buried himself inside Oliver. Strong hands were gripping Oliver’s hips so there was nothing stopping the sounds and half-words falling from Oliver’s lips as Slade _pounded him,_ putting such force and speed into their coupling that Oliver was hardly getting a breath in before it was getting ripped out again, his mangled cries almost masking the harshly repeated _slap_ of skin on skin as Slade did his best to fuck him senseless.

He couldn’t think, could barely breathe. Tension and pleasure twined within Oliver, wrapping tighter and tighter inside him until suddenly he came, his vision whiting out as his body seized with pleasure, clamping especially tight around Slade, who gave a shout, thrust his hips even _harder_ before slamming to a stop as deep as he could within the quivering body beneath him, cock pulsing as it shot load after load of come.

Oliver was in a haze, slowly coming down from the best damn orgasm he’d had in weeks.

He was sweaty, his limbs ached and shook.

It was _amazing_.

Dimly, he felt Slade panting over the back of his neck.  The warm air washed over his sweaty skin and he shivered, immediately becoming aware that Slade hadn’t withdrawn yet when the softening cock twitched within him, startling a moan from both of them.

“Easy,” Slade growled, wrapping a firm hand around Oliver’s hip to hold him in place.

Coherent thought was still beyond Oliver, all he could manage was a throaty groan in reply. He hadn’t felt this good in weeks, not since before Shado had joined them. He didn’t regret her rescue, but it couldn’t be ignored that Oliver’s sex life had suffered ever since. _Goddamn_ had he been tense. He would never say it out loud and risk Slade getting a big head over it, but Oliver had never been fucked this well by anyone else. When Shado came into the picture and Slade had stopped touching him, Oliver hadn’t known what to do with himself anymore because how could his hand replace this?

Pleasure tingled across his skin. _Fuck_ he had missed this.

“You alright, kid?”

“Mhmm…”

Slade gave a soft laugh. “Did I break you?” He ran a hand across Oliver’s sweaty back a few times, giving him a gentle pat to his hip. Then, slowly, he was pulling out, taking a moment to spread Oliver’s cheeks and eye the abused hole, the come dripping out of him to the ground below.

Shivering, Oliver sent what he hoped was a reproachful look over his shoulder. It still made him self-conscious when Slade did that - though he absolutely _loved it_ when Slade came inside him. Now that the afterglow was wearing off, a sort of weariness was seeping back into him that had nothing to do with exhaustion. Soon, they would have to go back to the pretending that this…weird symbiosis he and Slade had didn’t exist and then there was the tension _both_ of them had about Shado and Oliver really was out of his depth when it came to this much social complication - well, he’d never really been forced to deal with the consequences, that is.

“C’mon, kid. Time to get back. Shado’s waiting.” Slade got to his feet. Once his pants were up, he started tossing Oliver’s scattered clothes over, waiting impatiently for them to be put on.

“Okaaaay?” Oliver drew out, unsure what she’d be waiting for.

“I forget to mention? We talked, her and I. Turns out she’s been watching us as well.” With that, he took off into the brush, leaving Oliver half clothed and entirely stunned.

As the implications of Slade’s comment really hit him, Oliver jerked to his feet, scrambling to gather his things and follow. “So, wait, what?” He called after Slade’s swiftly disappearing form, quickening his own pace.

He’d never been so eager to get back to the plane.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and criticisms welcome. Be kind, please rewind. Find me at collared-fantasies.tumblr.com .


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